To keep track of these lives we live is
not just a means of enriching our understanding . . . but a truly
sacred work. In these pages I tell secrets about my parents, my
children, myself because that is one way of keeping track and because I
believe that it is not only more honest but also vastly more
interesting than to pretend that I have no such secrets to tell. I not
only have my secrets, I am my secrets.
— Frederick Buechner
Since the early 90s it's been my habit to start a new notebook for my
paper journal on
this day, as a way of starting fresh for the new year. I started this
online journal in
February of 1999,
on my mother's birthday, and in December I took up the habit of
paralleling my private journal habits by starting a new volume of it on
The Feast of Stephen. That was my
father's birthday. I remember my parents' birthdays more now that
they're gone than I did when they were around to be told,
glad you're here, the whole reason
we celebrate birthdays anyway. My year-end letter, the thing I send
instead of a Christmas card, is always dated on this day, if not mailed
until maybe Epiphany. Last year I didn't even write one. I don't
remember now why.
For a writing exercise this morning I reviewed all the Feast of Stephen
entries in my paper journal (the Buechner quotation above was entered
in 1995) and the online versions as well. In
1999 I noted
that I had made up a fancy French name for this time of year,
Fin de l'Annee. I don't really know
French, but I do know the literary term
fin de siecle (bandied about much
in 1999), so I'm guessing that's how one might say "end of the year."
In
2000 I was
emerging from a bout of medical complications that had threatened to
derail the season entirely for me. In
2001 I was
trying to come to grips with the sudden death of a young woman of my
acquaintance. In
2002 I
changed the name of the journal and announced that after nearly
abandoning the effort I was going to write more regularly. I didn't. In
2003
I changed the name and focus again but ended the piece with the
uncertain, "Joy to the world! Now what?"
I'm making the same promises to myself and to my readers that I've made
for several years now. I'm going to lose weight, develop as a fiction
writer, get back to cross-stitch and other handcrafts, go out with
friends more, declutter my house, and develop as a nonfiction writer by
posting more often to this site.
Holidailies has
been good for me in this regard. I'm over 15,000 words and have had a
lot of encouraging feedback.
So thanks to everyone who has read and especially those who have
written. I'm ready to meet all those old goals
and go to Wyoming.